The drive stayed in Rin's hand the entire walk to Kieran's flat.
He didn't text ahead. He didn't knock gently. He pounded on the door like someone who'd finally decided he was done being a pawn.
Kieran opened it in sweats and a half-eaten sandwich in hand. "Well, good morning to you too."
Rin shoved the drive forward. "You knew about this?"
Kieran's gaze flicked down. Recognition. Guilt.
He stepped aside. "Come in."
Rin didn't sit. "How long have you had this footage?"
"Too long." Kieran closed the door. "Too risky to release until I knew where you stood."
"You used me," Rin said, quiet fury behind his words.
Kieran tilted his head. "And what has Than been doing since the day you met?"
"That's different."
"Is it?"
Rin stepped closer. "You didn't tell me Jun was in love with him. That Than told him to stop digging."
Kieran's eyes darkened. "I told you Jun was complicated. That he trusted the wrong man."
"And now I'm what—his replacement? Your next crusade?"
"No, Rin. You're the one Jun should've been. The one who might still get out alive."
That stopped him.
Kieran stepped closer, voice dropping. "You want to beat Than? Then stop pretending this is still about right and wrong. Start thinking like him."
Rin hated how much that made sense.
The next day, HanCorp buzzed like it was hiding something.
Rin didn't speak to anyone. He didn't even look at Than's office. But he could feel it — a shift in how people watched him. Eyes lingered. Conversations halted.
And then a meeting invite landed in his inbox.
Than Han. 12:00pm. Your floor.
The elevator ride up felt like loading a gun.
Than was waiting in the corner conference room, alone, back turned again — a habit now. He didn't speak until the door clicked shut behind Rin.
"You saw the footage."
"Yes."
"I assume you have questions."
"I only have one," Rin said. "Why give it to me?"
Than turned, eyes unreadable. "Because I wanted you to hear it from me first. And because no matter what you think… I never wanted to lie to you."
Rin scoffed. "You just didn't want me to leave."
Than took a slow step forward. "You think this is a game of control. Of power. It's not. It's a war."
"With what?"
"My family," Than said. "The board. The legacy I didn't ask for. I'm not trying to trap you, Rin. I'm trying to survive you."
The room pulsed with silence.
Then Rin said, "You could've told me the truth."
"You wouldn't have stayed."
"I still might not."
Than didn't move. "Then why are you here?"
Rin didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Later that night, a message popped into his inbox. Anonymous.
Check the offshore account linked to Project Aurelia.
He did.
And what he found made his skin crawl.
Millions—moved in quiet transactions from HanCorp subsidiaries to shell corporations in other countries. The signatures were masked, but one name showed up repeatedly: T. Han.
And the attached file?
A list of contracted scientists who'd suddenly vanished after working under the project.
Rin closed his laptop. Called Kieran.
"We need to talk."
They met at an empty rooftop lot, wind sharp against the city lights.
"This isn't just corruption," Rin said. "It's something else. Something darker."
Kieran lit a cigarette, face grave. "I know."
"You knew about the disappearances."
"Only rumors."
Rin turned to him. "Tell me everything. Now."
Kieran exhaled. "Project Aurelia started as biotech research — next-gen disease mapping. But then it got repurposed. Human trials. Quietly, off the books. When Jun found out, he threatened to go public. That's when things changed."
"And Than?"
"He tried to protect Jun. At first. But there's only so much even Than could do once his father got involved."
Rin's heart pounded. "And now I'm standing in the same place Jun did."
Kieran looked at him, jaw tight. "Then you'd better make different choices."
That night, Rin couldn't sleep.
Not because of fear. Not because of Than.
But because something inside him had shifted.
He wasn't running anymore. He wasn't unraveling.
He was loading the matchstick.
And Than had taught him exactly how to burn things down.
To be continued...